


Locked in the Shadow

by Fierygirl0 (orphan_account)



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Canon - Manga, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Manga Spoilers, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Fierygirl0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To avoid spoilers, this is going to be a little unhelpful and very vague. This is pretty much just Zangetsu's thoughts from the scenes with him, in the manga. Spoilers for chapter 541 or so of the manga, don't read if you're not caught up! To anyone caught up, I swear it makes sense. - Canon storyline, no pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locked in the Shadow

"What the hell are you?!" Ichigo shouts, and it feels like my heart's stopped. I knew, of course I knew, but to hear him say it is an agony in and of itself.

The hollow I'm forced to share my form with speaks, in a voice that is mildly amused and light. "What a mean thing to say, partner." He can feel my pain, though he doesn't fully understand it, and that comes through in our words if not in our tone.

"If you think you are worthy of wielding me," anger rises, sharp and fast, as the quincy _bastard_ speaks, "then prove it, and take me back with your own hands. Take me back from yourself." How _dare_ he paint me as the villain?! The bastard has already claimed my name, and my title, how dare he turn our soul's master against me on top of that?

The worst part is that I know it's working. Ichigo, the owner of all of us, is _so_ young, so inexperienced, and he has no idea that the entity that has claimed my name, Zangetsu, is only holding both of us down. Suppressing his power, my power, and trying to force him to use his heritage as a quincy, and not a shinigami. I can see our charge's eyes harden, and that hits me like a sucker punch.

I force my way past the quincy's hold, anger and fear freeing me for just long enough to force out, "Yeah, take it back!" Ichigo can't hear the desperation, I know he can't, and I don't have any time to drive it home before the quincy's power tightens and forces me back down beneath the hollow. I want to turn on the bastard, rip him apart with the blade in our hand, the forced manifestation of my form that's so polluted by the quincy's influence, it's forced into this crude facsimile of my real shape. "Come and get it," the hollow says with a laugh, "if you can, partner!"

The hollow leaps at him, and I feel the slightest burst of pride as my charge meets us head on, wielding the small asauchi the quincy had created for this show. Our blades clash, and I see the uncertainty spring to life in his eyes as he realizes how much stronger we are. He's no match for the two of us combined, even with my power reduced to practically nothing, and the hollow sends him skidding back against the ground with a hard push. The quincy lets just enough of me loose to let my reiatsu spill around us, tainted white by the hollow, and a hint of fear springs to life. His eyes are wide, and the hollow almost grins as our charge's eyes flick from the blade at our side to his own.

"What are you doing, partner? If you just stand there," the hollow drops the blade, catching the cloth hanging from its handle and using it to start it spinning by our side. It's _not_ how I should be used, not even close, but the form of my manifestation is so inaccurate that I can't find it in me to be angry, "I'll kill you."

"What?!" Ichigo gasps, startled, eyes getting even wider and bright with actual fear. I want to shout at him that this is _wrong_ , that this isn't how things should be going. He shouldn't have any reason to be afraid of me, or even the hollow. All we are is parts of him, in the end. The hollow gives a laughing shout, and flings the blade at him. Our charge leaps to the side, out of the way, and the hollow pulls the blade back to our side with a yank of the cloth, idly spinning it above us.

"Che, I missed." He gives a huff of amusement, barely audible over the whistle of the blade above us. "You're really ridiculous," he comments. "You had such a powerful sword, how did you end up half-dead on the ground and bleeding like crazy? I don't understand how that could have happened!" In his own way, the hollow is being nice. He's mocking Ichigo, true enough, but only with the truth. The hollow is the weakest part of our soul, an added bonus to the powers of the quincy and I, both of us having been here since our charge's birth. He respects both of us, even though, with the quincy holding me down, I'm almost nothing. He knows, beneath the wrap of blue power, that I am a force to be reckoned with.

"You," the hollow all but shouts, immediately catching all of our charge's attention. "Did you think that a complete stranger would suddenly become your friend after you asked him his name?"

Ichigo's brow furrows a little deeper for a moment, clearly in confusion, before he speaks. "What?"

The hollow twists our lips in a sneer, our eyes narrowing. "I'm talking about you and your sword! You think that you'd be able to use Zangetsu fully by just knowing his name! You only think of yourself, and never consider drawing out Zangetsu's power!" _No_ , make this stop. It hurts to think of it, hurts to know that Ichigo believes the quincy is his sword. That bastard is only doing this to keep him alive, not to train him the way he should be. _I_ would have taught him all of this long before he needed it, he would _never_ have ended up bleeding out and this desperately in need of my help. The quincy only cares about keeping him alive, even by the narrowest margin, and it's painful. "This isn't all there is to Zangetsu's power. If you can open up, lend him _your_ power, he will become even stronger!"

I perk up in interest, just as I feel the quincy give a warning spike of power to the hollow, tugging on the bonds wrapped around the weakest part of our soul. He _is_ right. If Ichigo truly reaches for me, without thinking of the quincy faking it, I might be able to force the quincy off me. An influx of power might be enough to free me, and I could make _sure_ that the quincy never tied me down again.

"But you can't do that," the hollow continues, heeding the warning from our bastard controller, "you won't rely on your zanpakuto. You think that all you need to do is to train yourself, and you'll become stronger." And that is _wrong_ , it's _so_ wrong. He should never have gotten that impression, _I_ should have been there to teach him better.

Ichigo's eyes flick behind us, to that _bastard_ of a quincy, and the hollow responds to my fury by throwing the sword again. _No! I'm_ Zangetsu, not that mocking imitation. Not the crude cleaver slicing through the air, not the quincy bastard behind us. _Me_. Why can't he see it, why can't he _feel_ it? The blade isn't _right_.

After the third throw, the hollow keys in to my increasing pain, and catches the sword by its hilt after jerking it back to him. "Time to end this," he says, resting the weight of the blade over our shoulder. It burns at my senses, stings in our hand, because _I_ know that it should be different, but the hollow doesn't give any sign of it. I don't know if he can't feel it, or if he's ignoring it, and I find it hard to care. "I'm going to show you the right way to use Zangetsu," another sharp burst of pain, and I let myself sink down and into the depths of our soul, "since you probably won't ever learn how to do it yourself, not even to safe your life!" There's no point, is there? The quincy will throttle any chance of evolution, replacing any hint of me with him, and there's nothing I can do on my own.

The hollow rushes at our soul's master, and I come sharply back to awareness as I feel him reach out. My power reacts to his, and I fight, throwing myself against the quincy's hold and straining for our master's touch. If I can get to him, just a little, maybe I can make him realize how terrible all of this is, what the quincy is doing to him. We connect, and I get one brief moment of feeling the connection, my form twisting the small blade in my charge's hands to my _true_ shape, before the quincy jerks me away from it, throwing me back into the hollow. I scream in loss, the sword becoming the quincy's imitation as our blades clash. The hollow blinks in surprise, probably only sort of aware of our struggle, at the sudden switch of his blade to the small sword that had been in Ichigo's hands.

"What?" he asks quietly, and I see Ichigo's eyes widen at the cleaver in his hands, before they just as suddenly harden with determination.

Then he vanishes, just like that.

The hollow straightens up as the sword in our hand snaps, the metal falling to the ground with a clang that echoes through the world. He raises the broken blade, briefly looking at it before turning his attention to the quincy. "Is he gone?" the hollow asks, and the quincy gives a slow nod. Back to the real world, to fight the monster of a captain that he's run across. He should live, at the least, and that gives me enough hope to cling to. As long as Ichigo is alive, I have a chance of fixing all of this. "So, is that all?"

"Yes," the quincy says in his deep voice, "sorry to have bothered you." It's not quite sincere, but it's close enough that the hollow doesn't care. He throws the broken hilt of the sword away with a soft snort, taking a few steps toward the quincy to really face him.

"No problem. That guy is the owner of this world, after all, it'll be problematic if he doesn't win." That's the core of it. _I_ want to help Ichigo, to train him, that's my goal and always has been. But the hollow only wants to fight, to either take control of our master's body or force him to prove himself the stronger one, and the quincy is only interested in keeping him alive. "So, however unwillingly, I had to help. Alright, I've done the job, so send me back already." I struggle, just barely, and the quincy starts the process in answer.

"Yeah." Our feet start to disintegrate, fading into the quincy's cloak, and my part of our soul trembles as I brace myself to be thrown back into darkness. The quincy combined us, forced me into the background and locked me inside the hollow's form, but when he doesn't need us, we exist in blackness. _He_ gets to stay here, in the skyscrapers and the sun, but he forces us away.

"He's strong," the hollow comments, and then his voice turns sharp and mocking as he says my name, what our quincy is calling himself, " _Zangetsu_. Train him well, because one day that power will become mine."

We fall into blackness.

* * *

"Stop this!" I shout at the quincy, feeling the shaking beneath our feet as our soul's world trembles. My hands clench, watching the younger version of the quincy as he stares calmly back at me, only the slightest hint of irritation in his eyes. I can _feel_ Ichigo's pain, feel his desperation in the face of an opponent too powerful for his suppressed abilities. The black haired man, Kuchiki Byakuya, is strong, undoubtedly, but nothing that I couldn't defeat. Nothing that _Ichigo_ couldn't defeat if the quincy gave him access to even a _little_ more of my power. "Stop holding me down! Can't you see he's dying?!"

"I gave him your bankai," the quincy says, eyes narrowing just a fraction, "is there a reason I should give him any more when he's clearly so inept at using it?"

"You gave him a _parody!_ " I snarl, and the hollow stirs in response to my rage. He's not interested, yet, and that's given me control of our shared form, but that's sure to change once he realizes what's going on in the real world. " _You're_ the one dragging him down! If you let him use even a _fraction_ of my power-"

"He would become a shinigami," the quincy interrupts with sharp anger, "and I _won't_ have that. I will keep him alive, but _nothing_ more. If I must bind you and call myself by your name for the rest of his life, then I _will_."

 _"Move!"_ an echoing voice cries above our heads, and I take in a sharp breath at the pain I can feel in our master's soul, the ground shaking beneath us. _"I came here to win! It's meaningless just to survive, and meaningless just to fight! If I don't win, nothing will change! I have to win!"_

" _Listen_ to him!" I scream, and the quincy almost sneers at me.

_"I want to win!"_

Anger swells as the quincy, cutting it down to the last moment, moves to contact our master. I throw myself at him, flinging all of my power against his control of me. He's already weakened, forcing Ichigo to use _his_ power as his main strength, and he bows a little under my attack. Just enough for me to reach inwards and drag the hollow to the surface, throwing him to the forefront of our master's mind.

"Save him!" I call after him, feeling his part of our consciousness wake as he realizes the situation. His sharp anger at the quincy, followed by the equally sharp joy at being in control, and freed to fight, floods my mind, and I give a laugh that verges on psychotic. "You can't hold us both, _quincy!_ " I snarl, as the younger version glares at me. "I won't let you do this to him!"

Power flares around me, bright and blue like our master so regularly uses, and I give a cry of pain as the controlling part of our soul compresses around me, driving me to my knees. He already has so much control over me, and has for so long, that it's difficult for me to fight him. He knows how to hold me, knows all my weaknesses, and I'm hard pressed just to keep him focused and busy with me.

But then the hollow reaches in, reaching for my power and _not_ the quincy's, and I give a roar as it floods from me, pulled past the quincy's holds by the one part of our soul he _doesn't_ control. I stand, black reiatsu shoving away the blue, and I can feel the drain as the hollow drags the power from me. It's not much, not to my kind of power, but it's more than enough to save Ichigo, to _destroy_ his opponent. The hollow knows how to use the bankai, has all my knowledge of how my power should work, and that will be beyond devastating.

I can feel Ichigo drifting behind the hollow, barely stirring as he recovers, before I refocus my attention on the teenage version of the quincy's manifestation. His power is sliding back to him, whirling around him in a storm just like mine, and I see the blue reiatsu coalesce into a sword. I force down a grin, summoning my form, my _real_ form, to my hand. The blade gleams brightly, black reiatsu drifting around the edges, and the quincy sneers.

"You will _not_ make him a shinigami, Zangetsu. He is a quincy, he is _mine_."

"He already calls himself a shinigami," I counter, relishing in the _proper_ weight of my blade in my hand. "What does it matter if he uses _your_ power instead of mine? He's a shinigami at heart, and he knows it!"

"It's the power that matters, not the name," the quincy all but spits. "If he uses your powers I will have to destroy him, and I have no desire to do that. Let go, Zangetsu, let him be what he was meant to!"

"Rich words coming from _you_ ," I snarl back, leaping at him. The blade manifestation of me hits his energy sword with a strange hiss, and I shove him backwards. He might have better control over his reiatsu, but _I'm_ the better fighter. I'm physically stronger, and faster, and I'm a sword when it comes down to it. My purpose is to fight, _his_ is not. In a straight fight it's a laughable idea that he could ever defeat me.

Unfortunately, this isn't a straight fight.

Blue reiatsu presses down around me, leeching off my power, and I meet the quincy's blade as it comes down on me. I can feel him drawing on _my_ power, pulling the edges of it away from me to join the blue, and my jaw clenches. I can feel my very form waver, as he pulls at me, and with a shout of anger I get pressed to my knees.

I can feel Ichigo reawaken, and then the sharp horror that hits him as he realizes what the hollow is doing with his form. He immediately lunges for control, and I can dimly hear the hollow scream in disbelief and fury as our charge forces him away, back into our soul. The rebound hits me hard, snapping the hollow back into our form, and my block falters. The quincy's blade bites into our shoulder, and the hollow forces a sharp sound of pain through our lips.

 _"He did this,"_ I hiss within our shared minds, forcing my blade to hold up to keep the quincy's from sinking further our shoulder. _"Give me our body, just for a moment. I only need a_ _ **moment**_ _."_

With a laugh, the hollow obliges. He sinks away, and I meet the quincy's gaze. His eyes are narrowed, and I give a sharp grin. "Only the power matters, huh? How about a _hollow?_ " I drop my blade, reaching for him, and manage to grab him by the cloth on his shoulders as his eyes widen. I yank him down, and open myself wide as he falls, dragging him - as he shouts with protest and slight fear - into our shared body.

I wrap myself around him, and give a mental snarl, refusing to allow him to separate himself again. _"You're_ _ **mine**_ _now, quincy. If he can't be a shinigami, he damn well can't be a quincy either!"_

* * *

The quincy has the slightest awareness, and influence on the hollow, as do I, but I keep him occupied. We exist in a never-ending stalemate, our powers waging a silent war within our charge's soul. It gives the hollow free reign, and that's _beyond_ dangerous, but at least this way Ichigo has access to one source of power now. An unstable one, and one that will be happy to destroy him if given the chance, but it's something. He wouldn't have gotten anywhere held under the quincy's heel, and if I have to sacrifice my ability to help Ichigo to make sure the quincy can't hurt him, so be it.

I can feel him suffering, feel his fear and his confusion at the swap to the hollow, but there's nothing I can do about it. He _can't_ keep thinking that the quincy is his zanpakuto, can't keep believing that the blue power is natural. He is black, he has always been black, and he should always _be_ black. But it hurts, and when the hollow starts interfering with him, starts mocking him and shoving himself into the cracks of our master's mind, it's all I can do to let him do it. It wears on me, the pain and grief I can feel from him, but I force myself not to give into the quincy. To echo the quincy's words, if I have to keep him here for the rest of our master's life, then I will. I'll take the pain, the never-ending fight, if it means that our master can grow without the quincy dragging him down.

The first time Ichigo takes a blow due to the interference of the hollow, the sharp pain and the sudden swell of anger almost makes me lose my grip. I snarl a sharp warning at the hollow, which he laughs off, and pray that Ichigo makes it out intact. The hollow knows we can't do anything to stop him, and my part of our soul shakes as I force myself not to fix it.

It _hurts_ so badly, and I can feel my sanity slipping as Ichigo deteriorates, sinking into fear and frustration at his apparent helplessness.

It only gets worse when the Espada comes to town, and the hollow - oblivious to the danger - tries to force Ichigo to accept him as the stronger power. _That's_ what finally drives our master to the others that resemble him, the vizards, as they call themselves. They're not _quite_ the same, but they're close enough to teach him and the hollow knows it. He almost kills the one they send to draw him out, and only the overpowering press of the other's reiatsu is enough to hold him down.

When they decide to immediately throw him up against the hollow, I decide that I have to watch. I slip closer to the surface of the hollow, pulling the quincy with me, and I can hear him laugh at both of us. I can't stop this without releasing the quincy, and even though I'm the strongest part of our soul, I can't risk letting the bastard separate himself from us again. I might never force him back under.

The rebound of emotion only gets worse as Ichigo actually enters our world. The hollow is crouched, waiting, but he looks up when we feel the swell of reiatsu - still barely tainted by the quincy bastard's presence - and gives a small grin. He can feel Ichigo's frustration, his depression, through what _I_ can feel, and the pride that rises in him makes me want to strangle him. If only I could.

"Yo, long time no see, 'King'." The hollow's voice is mocking, amused, and bloodthirsty. He knows this is going to be a defining fight, and knows he has the upper hand with Ichigo in his current state. He gets to his feet. "Sup? It's been awhile, your _majesty_. What's wrong? You look awfully depressed, hm?"

Our charge glances briefly around our world, before refocusing on the hollow. "Where is old man Zangetsu?" he asks, and I nearly scream in fury. The hollow smirks, feeling both my rage and the smug satisfaction from the quincy, and Ichigo shifts into a fighting stance, reaching back for the hilt of the imitation blade suspended on his back as it is on the hollow's. "You bastard," he snarls, and his mouth opens to say more before the hollow cuts him off.

"I don't get it," the hollow mocks, pointing to the blade Ichigo has a grip on. "That thing you're holding, is that the Zangetsu you're talking about? Or is it," he reaches back, clasping the hilt of his own blade, and pulls it off his back with an overly dramatic flourish, "the one that I'm holding?" Ichigo's eyes widen, and I can feel his shock. It infuriates me. I know our charge is no good at reiatsu control, since _I'm_ no good at it and the quincy has carefully _not_ taught him how, but why can't he _feel_ that the blade in his hands isn't right? "You asked me where Zangetsu is, I'll tell you." He leaps at Ichigo, and our charge pulls the mimicry blade from his back, the cloth around it unwinding. " _I'm_ Zangetsu!" the hollow shouts, and I almost laugh. True, but also so _not_.

The blades clash, and once again I can feel the fear start in Ichigo. The hollow pushes him back without much trouble, still so much _better_ at handling even the imitation of my form than Ichigo is. I intrinsically know how, and therefore so does he. He immediately goes after our charge, and Ichigo braces with the back of his other hand to keep his blade away from himself.

"You son of a bitch," he shouts, "what the hell did you do with Zangetsu?!"

I tighten my hold on the quincy, and I can feel him smirk at me. _"He's_ _ **mine**_ _, Zangetsu. You'll never have him."_

"Persistant, aren't we?" the hollow asks with a wide grin, laughing at the ignorance of our soul's master. "Don't make me say it again! I _am_ Zangetsu!" He shoves Ichigo away, using a little more of our power, and our charge flies backwards, slamming into one of the many skyscrapers. The hollow lands near him as he starts to rise, blood trickling down one side of his face.

"Ichigo, I don't know if you understand or not, but, Zangetsu and I have always been one and the same. Both Zangetsu and I are a part of your spiritual power, and I was a part of Zangetsu. We all share the same body, and whenever the 'dominant' person changes, the outer appearance also changes. When one is dominated by 'life', one is flesh. When one is dominated by 'death', one becomes bones. It's the same reasoning. My power expanded, and so the ruling power went to me. And this way, Zangetsu became a part of me instead." I tremble, hating that although the hollow is referring to me, his statements are ambiguous. I understand that there's no point in confusing our charge, that it's doubtful he would ever accept the reality of what is happening inside his soul, but I hate the lie of it all. "The more you try to use Zangetsu's power," the quincy's power anyway, that the hollow has been substituting with his own, "the easier it is for me to control your soul!"

Ichigo pauses for a moment before standing, eyes narrowed and a thread of determination strengthening them. "Is that so? That means that if I beat you here, old man Zangetsu will be able to return to being the seat of my power?" Oh, I wish. Unfortunately, nothing will change, not with me busy locking down the quincy. The hollow might be weak for awhile, but neither of us has the extra concentration to take control while continuing our battle.

"You?" the hollow asks, incredulously. "Defeat me?" He smirks. "That ain't happening."

"Oh really?" I watch his sword rise before coming down, cloth wrapping around his right arm. The hollow gives him a weird look, and I can feel the confusion in the weakest part of our soul. "Say that again, after you see this!"

It hits the hollow, and he almost laughs. Ichigo has no idea that the hollow can mirror, and exceed, anything he knows. "You really don't get it, do you?" The white blade rises above his head, before lowering into the same position that Ichigo has it. Our charge's eyes briefly widen. "I told you, that ain't happening!" I can see Ichigo's jaw clench, debating, before he jumps headfirst in just like he always does.

"Ban-" he starts, and the hollow echoes the word, "-kai!"

Fury overcomes me at the parody of my bankai, the sad, and weak, imitation of my true form. He should be so much stronger than this, so much _unbelievably_ stronger. His friends might believe he's monstrous even now, but he could be so much more.

The hollow cuts through the cloud of debris, allowing our charge a moment to get his first look at the mirrored white coat and blade, before jumping at him. His grip on my hilt is easy, familiar, a backwards one handed grip that no swordsman in their right mind would use in a real fight. But the hollow can, because he knows this form so perfectly, knows everything about my weight and balance, and how I can or can't be used. Even forced into a different form, it would be impossible for me not to know myself.

"You bastard," our charge snarls over the crossed blades, "when did you learn how to do bankai?!"

"Isn't it obvious?" the hollow mocks, and I see anger spring to life in our charge's eyes. That's good, isn't it? Isn't anger better than his frustrated helplessness? "The same time you did, Ichigo!" They part in matching, but oppositely colored, swirls of reiatsu, and for once it's Ichigo that comes after the hollow. He's fast, but the hollow flips the sword to a proper grip and blocks, letting the thrust of the sword slide past his throat with just inches to spare, completely unafraid. He does brace the sword with his other hand, palm pressing against the back of the blade, and offers our charge a grin. "Get the chip off your shoulder! Let's enjoy this!"

"Screw you!" Ichigo reaches deep into both of us, pulling out an almost evenly mixed combination of the quincy's power and mine, and flings the hollow away from him. Two skyscrapers fall apart under the smash of the hollow against and through them, but it's only the slightest pain of impact to him, and he's almost immediately on his feet again, skidding to a stop. Our charge draws the black blade in his hand to one side, and then gives a shout. "Getsuga, Tenshou!"

Black energy slices through the air towards him, and I can feel the hollow's contempt. He ends his backwards momentum, and throws his left hand forward, slicing through the black energy without even feeling the sting of it against his hand. I can feel fear spike _sharply_ from Ichigo, and the hollow grins and launches himself back. The black and white swords clash together with a ring of metal, and the hollow brings his left hand forward to press lightly against the back of his blade.

"Getsuga," the hollow says softly, and Ichigo's eyes widen drastically, "Tenshou."

White reiatsu overtakes him as the hollow draws back, out of its range, and I can hear and _feel_ his cry of pain even past the roar of energy and the crumbling of the skyscrapers. The two attacks don't compare. Ichigo can't properly use my abilities while cut off from my power, or when using the hollow or the quincy's power, but the hollow can drag it directly from me. He knows how, has known since the quincy gave Ichigo this parody, and in his hands the attack is just as devastating as it should be. The hollow drifts down to the same level Ichigo is on, waiting for his attack to dissipate. It does, after a few moments, and my part of our soul shakes. Injury is necessary, even in training, but this...

His chest is sliced apart, the same area of his robes burnt away, and most of the area is covered in dark blood. It drips to the ground, maybe twenty feet below us, with soft plops. He's clearly in tremendous pain, and the heaving of his chest proves the effort it takes just for him to still face the hollow. The pain rebounds on me, and I fight the urge to drop everything to help my master. He won't accept it anyway, he doesn't _know_ me.

The hollow smirks, tilting his head a little to one side. "I already told you, you _really_ suck, Ichigo." Our charge's jaw clenches, and the hollow's smirk widens to a small grin. "Did you forget? The first person to use Getsuga Tenshou while in bankai was _me_. All you did was watch my battle, and then poorly imitate me. Ichigo," the hollow blurs into a step of shunpo, gripping the end of Ichigo's black blade, "give it up already," the hollow says softly. "You can't use bankai." I can feel the fear, helplessness, and despair start to overcome Ichigo as his blade turns white, and it only worsens as it slowly begins to disentegrate.

"Za... Zangetsu is..." The disbelief in his tone, the utter _fear_ , prompts a smirk from the hollow, and I have to stop my urge to hide from this. If Ichigo truly falls here, then I'll have to intervene. The only thing that could be worse than what I'm preventing, would be the hollow overtaking our charge. He'll devour Ichigo whole, turn us into an actual hollow, and not only are the vizard waiting to destroy us if that happens, but about the only thing the quincy and I can agree on is that neither of us want Ichigo to be turned into a monster like that.

"That isn't Zangetsu," the hollow says with barely leashed irritation, " _I_ am Zangetsu." He's starting to understand _my_ fury, my pain, and he's beginning to get frustrated at Ichigo's attachment to my mutated manifestation, instead of the actual power behind it.

"You son of a-" Ichigo starts, looking up, but the hollow lashes out, grabbing our charge by the face and flinging him backwards. It's a fraction of what he could have done, but I can feel the pain of the impact reverberate into me.

"As usual your brains are, not surprisingly, absent," the hollow almost snarls. "What the hell do you think you're doing, spacing out even though you don't have a weapon?" As Ichigo looks up from his impact, pressed into the rubble of the skyscraper, the hollow drops his blade and catches it by the last link of chain with his left hand, hooking it into a spinning blur with practiced ease. "Ichigo, what's the difference between a king and his horse?" he asks sharply, and confusion sparks in Ichigo's brown eyes.

"What?" he asks.

The hollow uses his familiarity to snatch the sword out of its spin with his opposite hand and without looking, displaying the knowledge it will take years more for Ichigo to learn, if he ever gets the chance. "I don't mean kiddy shit like 'One's a person and one's an animal' or, 'One has two legs and one has four.' If their form, ability, and power were exactly the same, why is it that one becomes the king and controls the battle, while the other becomes the horse and carries the king?!" He stops, grinning at our charge, and when there's no answer he continues. "There's only one answer. _Instinct!_ In order for identical beings to get stronger and gain the power they need to become king, they must search for more battles and power! They thirst for battle, and live to mercilessly, crush, shred, and slice their enemies!"

He jerks the blade into another spin, and I can feel both the confusion from Ichigo and the hollow's bloodlust. "Deep, deep within our body lies the honed instinct to kill, and slaughter our enemies! But you don't have that! You don't have those pure, basic instincts! You fight with your brain. You try to defeat your enemies with logic! And it doesn't work! You're trying to cut them with a sheathed sword! That's why you're weaker than me," and it hits me, _that's why you can't see me,_ "Ichigo!" A single twist of his fingers, looped into that last link of chain, brings the sword out of its spin and into his hand, and he flings it at our soul's master.

I shake, crushing down on the quincy in equal parts to keep him there and to have something to hold on to. Ichigo blinks, eyes wide, and only when he looks down and realizes he's impaled by the blade does the pain rebound on me. I can see his shoulders tremble, and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment in reaction.

"I'm not gonna have it, Ichigo," the hollow says, mouth twisted in a grin. "I don't know about Zangetsu, but I refuse to carry a king who's weaker than me and get cut to ribbons with him." He starts towards our charge, stride slow, and Ichigo only watches him approach, breath coming in pants. "If you're weaker than me, then I'll destroy you," he gets within distance, and reaches out to grasp the hilt of the white sword, "and take your crown for myself."

The hollow starts to pull the sword back, blood coating the end of the blade, and I feel the swell of reiatsu and vanishing of emotion before either of the other two parts of Ichigo's power. Our master's hand snaps out, wrapping around the blade, and black power spreads from his grip, darkening the blade with a speed that alarms the hollow. He immediately jerks his hand away, but not before the power reaches his arm, turning the last few inches of his sleeve from white to black, and restoring color to his hand. He looks down at it in shock, and then at Ichigo in anger. Ichigo meets his gaze, eyes narrowed, before tightening his grip on the now black blade and ripping it from himself in a single move. I can feel his pain, but it doesn't stop him. He twists the blade with his fingers, spinning it to grip the hilt with an ease that actually surprises me, and his eyes gain a light blue glow. I silently scream in anger, unable to cut off his draw on the quincy's power. He leaps, and the hollow gives a startled noise of pain as the blade slides into his own stomach in a near perfect imitation of his earlier wound.

I can feel the hollow's shock, his anger, but also his grudging respect. I don't care for any of it. I want to break free of our form and wrap my fingers around our charge's neck, shake and scream at him until he realizes what he's doing, and how much I'm giving up to keep him away from the power he's reaching for. All the quincy will do is hurt him, and he can't _fucking_ see it! Why can't he _feel_ it? Why doesn't he _know?!_ Damn the whole lot of them, why hasn't anyone _else_ told him yet?!

"Damn," the hollow hisses, as our charge's reiatsu spreads over his back, overtaking him. "Looks like your instincts, and your desire to fight, aren't completely gone." The hollow is weakening, quickly, and he begins to fade away under Ichigo's hostile reiatsu. "Guess there's no way around it, you got me. I have to recognize you as the king, for now." He grins, fighting against the pressure removing him, and with him, us. "But don't you ever forget! Don't forget that either one of us can become the king or the horse. If you ever give me the chance. I'll drag you down and crush your skull!" He reaches forward, most his body already gone, and grips the black blade. "And one last warning. If you really want to control my power, make sure you don't get yourself killed before I come back!"

He loses his grip on consciousness, and both of us go with him.

* * *

I fall completely into madness. I know I have, but I can't stop myself. When Ulquiorra kills our charge, and the hollow takes complete control, I try and stop him. I didn't have to, Ulquiorra manages to break the mask, but it does result in letting the quincy loose again. He throws me so far down that I lose all track of time, and existence, and I fall into insanity in the endless black.

What's the point? Ichigo can't hear me, he'll _never_ hear me, the little _bastard_. So what's the _fucking_ point?

The destruction of his powers feels like nothing ever happened. The space between is blank, and it only feels like a moment before we're restored to him, and the quincy quickly takes the upper hand again. The hollow interferes with the quincy where he can, making sure that at least some of what Ichigo uses is his power, or mine, but I don't care. I _don't_ care.

I'm trapped down here, with only the faintest sense of events, blue power holding down my every move, and I don't bother to fight him. All that reaches me is our master's pain, his fear, his anger, and, where once those would have inspired me to drag myself out of these depths, now all it inspires is bitter frustration. He can't feel me, even through all of his different powers he's never been able to tell that I'm not what I should be, so why should I try and help him? What right does he have to use my power?!

I shut myself off to our charge, letting the quincy do whatever he damn well likes, and sink into a state of nothing but faint awareness. I might as well be asleep, for all that it matters, so why should I care?

Eventually I feel a pull on my soul, and I come enough back to myself to realize that someone else is touching me. Some other power, outside of Ichigo, is reaching for me and trying to pull me to the surface. I resist, but when the sharp voice comes I immediately become fully aware.

_"Stop hiding in there, Zangetsu! Come out, now!"_

I know the voice, even if the power touching me is alien, and I can't help but obey. Our creator, the shinigami who knows all asauchi that ever will exist or have existed, and he's speaking directly to me. Hot, bitter, anger rises at the realization that this stranger is the one pulling me from the depths of my master's soul, that _he's_ been the one to finally remove the cloak of blue power holding me down and not my actual master. I snarl in rage, pulling away from his firm hold, and I feel the sharp reprimand.

 _"He didn't know,"_ the voice says softly, still inexorably pulling me from the blackness, _"he only_ _ **just**_ _realized what he is. He's trying to fix things, Zangetsu, let him."_

I give a shout of denial as the light gets closer, but I'm helpless to fight the man's pull. I feel my form, the terrible _imitation_ that I've been forced into, melt, and I give a cry of pain as heat and pressure closes down around me. _"No, stop!"_ I cry desperately, and with a final yank he drags me into the light. I can feel Ichigo's soul around me, feel the presence of the quincy and the hollow, withdrawn deep inside, and I sink to my knees, my eyes squeezed shut.

"Zangetsu?" comes a voice, questioning, and my eyes snap open. I look up, meeting the brown eyes of our soul's master. He's watching me, and I can't help the anger.

"Does it fucking matter?" I snarl, glaring up at him. He winces, and the burst of satisfaction is _so_ pleasant after the eternity of darkness and pain. I get to my feet, feeling my _true_ form across my back, the _correct_ weight, shape, and power.

"Of course," he says softly, brow furrowing just a little, "Zangetsu, I-"

"Don't call me that!" I shout, eyes narrowing as my hand jerks up to grab the hilt of my blade. "You've _ruined_ it," I snap, "taken my name and given it to that quincy _bastard_. Don't you _dare_ call me by the same name!" I can't hold in the anger, and I draw the sword, relishing in the feel of the _right_ blade in my hands. I leap at him, and he reaches back and takes his own blade, pulling it up to meet my downward swing. He grits his teeth and gives under my strength, jumping back, and I chase him.

"Wait, I-!"

"You never noticed!" I almost scream, using _my_ knowledge of my shape and his inexperience to slide my blade through the hole in the center, twisting my blade to jerk the sword from his grasp. His eyes widen, and I don't give him time to recover, sliding my blade through his right shoulder and shoving him back and down, pinning him against the blue skyscraper beneath us. He cries out in pain, hands rising to futilely grip the blade, trying to push it back out. I easily keep it in him, keep him down, kneeling above him and using my full strength to drive the blade down inch by inch, until most of it is embedded in the building beneath us.

"Did it never occur to you?" I snarl at him, "Not fucking _once?!_ Did you never bother to wonder why I was always so much _better_ than you?! Why I could wield that pathetic imitation of a blade with so much more skill, with so much more _power_ than you could?! Why he _couldn't?!_ " He drags in a pained breath, blood soaking his clothing, and I give a cry of fury at the feel of it rebounding into me. "He never trained you! He never taught you a _damn_ thing, and he didn't _let_ me! He almost let you _die,_ so many times! Why would any zanpakuto ever abandon their soul like that?!" I'm shaking, and his narrowed, hazy eyes are still fixed on mine. "Why couldn't you _feel it?!"_ I scream down at him.

I jerk at the feel of a hand around my lower left arm, blood making it slippery and wet. "I'm sorry," he says softly, his left hand rising to touch my cheek, my hair, "I'm so sorry, Zangetsu. I don't," he inhales sharply, a grimace of pain overtaking his features, "I don't have an explanation, and I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't deserve it, do I?"

I shake my head, hands clenching around the hilt of my form. "No," I snarl, "you don't." But I can feel his remorse, close as we are, as we've _always_ been. I know he's genuinely sorry, that he _didn't_ know and couldn't have, and that his guilt over it is deep, that it's shaken his whole world. It's hard, so _very_ hard, but I push the anger away from me. "But I'm your zanpakuto," I say, my voice quiet, and I meet his gaze, "and that means more than anything else." It's my job, it's _always_ been my job, to train the master of our soul, to keep him safe. I can't let my fury over his ignorance stop me from keeping him alive, not when I finally have the chance to do it right.

I let the blade in his shoulder go, dissolving my form into particles of black reiatsu. He rises up on his uninjured arm, the muscles in his neck tensed in pain, and reaches up with his right hand to pull me closer. I let him, dropping my head against his shoulder and ignoring the smell and feel of blood against my face.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asks, and I hesitate.

"Let me train you," I say eventually, "the way it _should_ have been to start with. You don't know how to use me, not the way you'll need to. I can teach you."

He nods, wrapping his arm around my back, and though the strength of his grip isn't anywhere near mine, I know that's something I can fix. The knowledge eases me, drives away the lingering shadow of bitter anger, and I relax against him. "I can do that, Zangetsu," he says quietly, into my ear. "I'll never let anything separate us again, I swear."

And somehow, I manage to believe him.


End file.
